Regulus didn't really know how it had even started, nor why he had kept it going so long. After all, he should hate every single one of those imbecile boys who called themselves Cowboys as soon as Sirius had run off to join them.

Regulus wanted to blame them all. Damn them to hell for constantly putting his brother in dangerous situations. Especially the most reckless of them all, James Potter. There was no official leader of the Marauders, but everyone listened when James spoke.

They went far and wide looking for trouble and biting off more than they could chew. There was every reason why Regulus, the heir of the Black family, should hate them all. And yet, James was stood in his bedroom after sneaking in when they had returned.

Regulus didn't know why, or really even how, it had happened. One minute he'd been yelling about Sirius being ruined from the moment he rode with them, and the next they were tangled up in his sheets. That had been months ago by now and it had developed further than anticipated.

James looked every bit an outlaw as he stood in the moonlight streaming in from Regulus's windows. He'd always been curious as to if James would ever loot his home but nothing had been misplaced yet.

"Who did this to you?" Regulus muttered as he lifted a hand towards a bruise on the side of James's face. Regulus's lips pulled down into a frown at the thought of someone hurting James. "Stupid cowboy."